


But the tigers come at night

by Abigail Fearnley (Elysandra)



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Captain gets what she wants, F/F, Past Sexual Abuse, Pirate!AU, Pirate-y non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:10:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysandra/pseuds/Abigail%20Fearnley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a pirate vessel - but it's nothing like any Kit has ever heard about. And then there's the Captain...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of two stories I wrote for this year's Sanctuary Big Bang. This is a mini bang (5k).  
> Many thanks to featherxquill who made an awesome banner for the story as well as icons to go with it. I can't tell you how much I love that banner and how excited I am to have pirate!Magnus icons! ♥ Thanks also to adeclanfan who helped me when I was stuck.  
> 

Kit stands at the railing of the Victoria, his eyes glued to the other ship.

It is a calm, beautiful night. The sea is slow, barely any froth on the waves’ crests as they gently rock the ship, yet wind enough to keep them moving. The sky is clear; a myriad of stars sparkle above them. It is even cool enough now for the sweat on their skin to dry, leaving crusty white stripes behind on their clothes. Everything is perfect - expect for the dark vessel behind them.

Early that morning, it appeared at the horizon, seemingly out of nowhere. Since then it has steadily drawn nearer, its speed almost unnatural, even considering its lithe form. Black sails adorn its masts - Kit has no doubt this is a pirate vessel.

The crew has been tense all day, their eyes drawn to their pursuers at every opportunity. Pirates are always bad news - but something about this vessel instils a bone deep apprehension that is almost palpable on board. It is Kit’s first encounter with pirates and he’s often imagined a glorious fight against any pirates that might dare to cross the governor’s vessel’s path; seeing the vessel, though, and feeling the tension that seems to thicken the air until it could be cut with a knife... It makes the colourful tales he’s been told seem to fade, and he observes the crew growing more and more quiet and subdued as the day progresses.

It is almost midnight, and the other vessel is now close enough for Kit to be able to discern single forms hurrying across its deck, when the unexpected happens. Waiting with baited breath for the other vessel to enter canons’ range, the crew watches as it seems to slow instead. At first it is barely noticeable, but by the time the activity on board the other vessel seems to calm, it has become obvious that they are matching the Victoria’s speed.

Kit’s hands grip the wood of the railing, the knuckles white, his eyes fixed to the other vessel. The crew begins to murmur in low, confused voices, and the unease tightens in his stomach till it feels as if a hard knot keeps him from breathing, reducing him to almost gasping for air. Like many of the crew, he cries out in surprise when large shadows seem to grow out of the dark sails, rising from the vessel, rising into the air like huge, over-sized birds. They gain height, and speed, and shoot towards them, closing the short distance so fast the crew has barely started to wonder what is happening when already they are above them.

They are large indeed, three giant eagle-like creatures hovering right above the masts of the Victoria. Close enough so that they could easily be taken down by guns, or maybe harpoons, if only any of their weapons were able to pierce their coat. But their only reaction to the crew’s attempted defence are loud, shrill cries echoing across the waves.

Then they open their talons.

 

~~~

 

Kit isn’t a sailor, even though he has chartered on the Victoria. He had to get away from that sorry island his parents have died on and had been quick to seize the opportunity when the Victoria called for hands, looking for help with its strange freight. Said strange freight has dealt Kit many a burn, scratch, cut, and bruise - and ironically now seems the one thing that’s going to save him. For Kit has learnt the hard way that things strange creatures throw at you seldom are things you’d welcome if you had a choice. Without a second thought, he ducks the first black ball, then a second, and scrambles across the deck to whatever safety there is to find. He almost collides with another sailor as he, too, tries to avoid a black missile, when they suddenly seem to grow legs and jump at him. Kit completely skips any attempt at even thinking about fighting the unknown and dives right through an open hatch into the vessel’s belly instead.

He manages to catch himself in time to drop inelegantly down beside the ladder, and even lands awkwardly on his feet. Ignoring the loud noise of aggravated animals as well as the sharp pain shooting up his legs, Kit hastens down the corridor between various cages until he comes across an empty one, half hidden behind another cage, and slips inside, acting purely on instinct. He pulls the door closed, barely manages to take care not to let the hatch lock, then curls up as tightly as he can in the dirty straw. He never notices the black creature at the back of his shoulder, nor the tiny sting of it trying to bite him through the cloth of his shirt and all the layers below it. His last thought is a hazy bewilderment about how silent the world seems to have become all of a sudden...

 

~~~

 

When he finally comes to, it is thanks to loud cursing right next to his ear.

“Sodding bastard,” a man’s rumbling voice continues; the sharp words feel like daggers stabbing his head. “’Docile’ m’ass! See who’s goin’ ta feed ya, bloody cat!”

Kit groans, a noise completely drowned by the colourful cursing.

_Bat cats only feed at night_ , he is about to grind out, when suddenly his brain catches up.

That isn’t a voice he knows.

That isn’t any member of the crew!

He bites his lip and freezes. The man is standing right next to the cage he is hiding in and the bat cat’s wings are constantly rapping against the bars his shoulder is pressed against. Claws scratch his skin as it paces in agitation, but the fiery pain barely pierces the haze of his panicking brain.

His cage will be up next for feeding, one step, one look, and he’ll-

But the cat’s attack seems to have been the final straw of what Kit can only guess has been a number of ‘uncomfortable’ welcomes so far. Quite a few of these strange animals have very peculiar habits. Kit sighs quietly in relief when instead of continuing his path down the row of cages, the stranger turns and stomps away, his curses growing more quiet the further he moves away.

Have they been boarded? They must have been - why else would a stranger be attempting to feed the animals? What does that mean? What has happened? Is anyone else still alive?

Kit’s thoughts race. He can’t stay here, hiding in a cage. Sooner or later, someone will continue the abandoned task, inevitably discovering him. That, and his limbs are burning from cramps, vicious protests of laying crouched in such a tight space for who knows how long.

He presses his feet against the door. It doesn’t move.

His breath hitches; this can’t be happening!

He presses his feet harder against the bars, puts all his strength into opening the cage.

The door doesn’t budge. He’s panicking now, his heart racing. He has to get out! He is huffing in short gasps of air, fighting a frightening sense of vertigo as he wriggles around, trying to get a look at the door. He manages to slip his fingers through the bars, feeling for the latch, praying that- He almost sobs with relief as he finds it shut, yet not locked. Somehow it must have closed, maybe from the cat’s cage rocking against this one. Whatever the reason, the latch itself he can get open. Straining and twisting, he manages to get his finger under the latch, breathing a huge sigh of relief when he feels it move.

The noise around him rises when the cage door bangs open under the pressure of his bent legs, but Kit couldn’t care less. He is finally able to slip out of the cage and there are no words to describe the sense of relief as he is able to take deep breaths, his panic subsiding.

Free, he is free.

He groans as he lies stretched out on the ground, his muscles protesting painfully.

 

~~~

 

Sooner than he would have liked he hears footsteps, as well as a man’s grumbling voice. Kit scrambles to his knees, then half runs, half stumbles further down the length of the ship, praying to reach his hidden little corner before anyone sees him.

Only it isn’t there.

He gasps and stares at the wall of wooden crates where the ship should continue for several meters.

This is wrong.

This is - not the right ship!

A hand grips his shoulder and he screams, flying around with his hands balled into fists, aiming for the head of his attacker - and finds them caught in the steel-like grip of a huge man, holding them easily despite Kit’s wild struggling.

“Who are you?” he huffs in a low, rough voice, sniffing the air in front of him. “Shouldn’t be here!”

His scream and his struggling cause the monsters around them to go wild, snarling and hissing and rocking their cages. Kit doesn’t pay them any attention; he has to get free, has to get away.

“Let me go!”

He struggles harder, trying everything to escape the strange man’s grip.

“Let me go! Let me GO!”

But his struggles don’t even seem to register. One moment his hands are free, the next he loses contact with the ground and finds himself flung across the other’s shoulder, carried away completely unheeding of his kicking, screaming, and pummelling the man’s broad back.

 

~~~

 

Blinding light greets him on deck, and he stops struggling in favour of shielding his eyes with his hands. After such a long time in badly lit darkness, Kit can only discern vague shadows at first. They are shadows of people, shadows of people who are staring at him.

As the shadows grow sharper, Kit realises for the first time the situation he is in. Caught by pirates, on their own vessel, and, to top it off, thrown over a man’s shoulder like an empty waterskin - it is most undignified and he can see wide corresponding grins on the faces around him. Grins that will grow even wider as soon as his secret is discovered.

That thought makes her freeze with fear.

Dear god.

Sweat begins to bead on her forehead, and her limbs start to shake.

“Let me down,” she demands hoarsely, struggling once more. She has no idea how to escape this. Certainly death is preferable to being at the mercy of a ship full of pirates - but there are so many men around her, she has no illusions that she could get past them. The man grunts at her and she swallows. Does he already know?

If he does, he doesn’t give any indications. Instead he keeps on walking straight across the vessel’s deck, followed by a growing number of increasingly boisterous pirates.


	2. Chapter 2

Once more, their newest strategy has worked out flawlessly. Part of her crew has manned their new vessel, and the monsters have been brought aboard the Watson’s Pleasure. It’s a risk sailing both ships with such low numbers but she stands by her decision to take a small vessel and crew for higher speed. They are lucky enough to have caught up with the merchant ship at all, learning about it almost too late. But the bounty has definitely been worth the trouble.

She narrows her eyes and ponders the sight of the other vessel disappearing at the horizon, sailing at a far slower rate. To capture a ship without any fighting is a luxury few can imagine; she still thanks fate for having let her to come across that precious load of toxic mummy spiders. It has cost her quite a few men to find a way to handle them but the many lives that have been saved by being able to avoid direct attacks altogether since then have more than made up for it.

Closing her eyes, knowing there’s nothing more she can do to ensure the other vessel has a save passage, the Captain turns her face up to the sun, allowing herself a moment to relax while she listens to the various sounds around her. The familiar noise of the wind in the sails, of water against the hulk, of men moving across the deck below her and bellowing orders up to those climbing the rigging above her head never fails to calm her. The constant flapping of fins striking the surface has stopped now that they travel at normal speed, replaced by the exuberant clicking of white dolphins at play as they follow, or rather circle, her vessel. The crew is at ease again, celebrating a raid gone well with loud and boisterous jibes and jokes. They’re as relieved to be without casualties as they are to have saved another load of monsters from their fate. It’s a fate they all know only too well, the fate of being flaunted in golden cages - or straight out killed and put in a cabinet of curiosities.

The thought alone makes her angry; she feels her sharp nails dig into the ship’s railing, the sun growing brighter behind her eyelids.

She needs to relax.

Everyone is safe.

The monsters are safe.

And she has personally gutted the captain, throwing his carcass over board to join the rest of his crew down with the sharks.

She smiles grimly, remembering the red, boiling water.

She sighs and opens her eyes when her expression startles a young cabin boy into stumbling across one of the recently seized crates; she studies him. This has been his first raid; his wide eyes speak clearly of his shock as well as exhilaration at seeing men who could have just as well been his tormentors torn to shreds so easily by claws and beaks and daggers. He is young, still, easily impressed, but loyal and quite clever, which is why she has allowed him to come. Maybe he’ll become one of her crew, maybe not; he has the right to see first-hand how they deal with people like those who killed his parents, killed two harmless farmers for no other reason but to take him from their lifeless arms.

She smiles at him, satisfied to see him answer her smile shyly. He has seen, and he will make his decision. Just as she has made hers, decades ago. Since then she has spent years and years using whatever means at her disposal to rid the world of those men trading monsters, humanoid or not, for their gain. And every single time, she has washed their blood off her hands with grim satisfaction.

Yes. Everything went well. It is time for satisfaction.

With the exception, once again, of Young William, who _still_ keeps getting himself bitten. The thought makes her smile and the tension leave her body. He’ll make a good caretaker if he ever masters this particular obstacle. She only hopes there’ll be enough members left to get them home after having to take over his feeding duties. Few of them are as adapt at figuring out a creature’s habits as he is.

As if on cue, she can hear Hector grumbling below her. She shakes her head, making a mental note to have him see her later. One more crew member who won’t volunteer for feeding duty any time soon.

A commotion below her has her look down, just in time to see her old friend carry something big and struggling out onto deck. Her crew quickly gathers around, quite expectedly; surprises aren’t exactly common at sea in the middle of nowhere. Not common for them, that is.

Yet here ‘it’ is.

She climbs down the stairs to the main deck and joins her crew, who cheer as a dirty heap of limbs is dumped right at her feet.

Interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

She lands on hands and knees when he drops her, and elbow, shoulder, and hip - all of them painfully meeting the hard wooden planks of the ship. It feels like the air is knocked out of her, and she coughs before she can groan. Raising her head, she comes face to leather with a shiny pair of black boots.

Somewhat dazed, she lets her eyes trail up the boots’ shafts to where they end in flaps just under the knees, then upwards over strong thighs under equally black cloth, hips adorned with a wide belt and silver pistol, waist cinched in red leather over a black blouse and... shoulders framed by dark locks...

A woman!

Kit gasps, and scrambles to her feet.

A female pirate! A female captain!

She stares, and swallows, hard. A female pirate captain with a beautiful face and very, very cold eyes.

All is silent as she stands and stares, trying not to show her fear, not to let her limbs shake the way they desperately want to. She doesn’t know what has happened, nor what is going to happen, but one thing she knows for sure: It won’t do her any good to show fear in front of a bunch of pirates. In front of _her_.

If only her knees didn’t feel like they couldn’t hold her upright much longer.

“What do we have here?”

The Captain finally breaks the silence, a disdain to her sharp voice that tells Kit clearly how unimpressed she is by her scrawny appearance.

“Stow-away. Must have hid in a cage,” her captor answers.

There’s laughter at that.

“First time I hear someone’s stupid enough to stow away on an attacking pirate ship!”

More laughter follows, but stops the moment the Captain speaks again.

“Are you sure he was hiding?”

The great oaf huffs.

“Smells human. Under the dirt.”

The Captain narrows her eyes, studying her intently while another one calls out: “Maybe getting dirty is his speciality!”

Loud laughter echoes across the deck, accompanied by other suggestions. They barely register with Kit, though, who feels like the rabbit in front of a snake. There’s hatred in the Captain’s eyes, deep, burning hatred. Beautiful as she might be, that woman isn’t dangerous, she is danger. Pure and simple. In that moment, it becomes clear to Kit that she won’t get off that ship alive.

She swallows, and straightens. Her dirt stained clothes make her feel even smaller in front of this woman, but she’s standing tall, determined to go down with pride. The Captain watches her, motionless. Her crew makes up for it with rude suggestions, some about her supposed ‘abilities’, more and more about what to do with her.

“Tell us your secret!” one calls, and it’s that comment, so close to her own thoughts, that finally pulls her out of her stupor.

“Last chance to impress, kid!”

“I’m good with monsters,” she bites out, because it’s the first thing that comes to her mind other than her real secret. And then, “And I’m _not_ a kid!”

She has no idea why she’s added that last bit, and winces when it falls loudly into the sudden silence.

“Good with monsters, are you?” It’s the Captain’s voice, and just like that Kit feels as if she’s back under her spell. “Those in cages or the ones outside?”

There’s laughter, and Kit glares.

“Like you?” she spats, then stumbles to her knees when she’s cuffed over the head, hard. She groans and tries to avoid a boot trying to kick her in the side.

“Enough!” the Captain snaps harshly, glaring at her men over the head of where Kit is cowering. The situation is rapidly turning from bad to worse and she can’t help but picture herself walking the plank already, or maybe with a knife to her belly? She can see a dagger at the Captain’s hip, and it’s not the only one. She should have kept her mouth shut - but she’s never been good at that.

“I usually know how to avoid those,” she mumbles; from the way the Captain looks at her she knows she hasn’t been quiet enough. A hand grips her arm in a wise-like grip and hauls her to her feet.

“Better watch that sweet mouth of yours,” the Captain growls. “Or we’ll find a better use for it. We are pretty imaginative, I promise.”

Kit swallows and nods, straining not to whimper at the way the fingers dig harder into her flesh.

“Good, you seem to learn quickly.” The Captain lets go of her and takes a step back. “What did you do on that ship?”

Kit looks around warily, feeling like every single eye is hanging onto her lips, waiting, waiting for something. This is important, but she has no idea why.

“I took care of the monsters,” she says hesitantly. There’s no sense in trying to hide anything if she doesn’t know what. If only she manages to keep her secret... “I fed them, watered them, made sure they stayed healthy.”

They are watching her, watching her like some of the monsters used to do when she came near their cage.

“There’s more to it than just throwing some meat in,” she adds, feeling defiant as the silence continues. “As some of you can tell.”

It’s not her best trait, getting all provocative when she feels insecure. It does seem to break through the Captain’s mask, though, and for a moment Kit thinks she sees her lips twitch.

It vanishes the instant a familiar voice breaks the silence.

“I say we keep’m! Might provide some fun and can feed’em beasts; won’t be no loss if they get ta _him_!”

“ _I_ say you’d do well to keep your mouth shut, Hector!” The Captain snaps, glaring at him. “One more word and you’re on muck duty!”

‘Hector’ takes a step back, raising his hands. He’s obviously clever enough to take her warning literally; more literal at least than a bat cat’s hisses. With the attention on someone else, Kit chances a proper look at those standing closest to the Captain. What has felt like a ship full of people actually seems to be a rather small crew, but those she sees are overly large and definitely strong enough to work the vessel. Quite a few of them also seem... ‘off’ somehow, but she doesn’t get a chance to dwell on it.

“Since obviously most of you turn into blathering idiots where our newest cargo is concerned, we will keep him for the time being.”

Low murmur answers the Captain’s words; it slowly ebbs off when she throws them a warning look.

“You know the rules: He’s allowed to stay on board; he’s allowed to prove himself!”

There’s more murmured protest, but no one dares to speak up. Kit understands completely when those steely blue eyes turn to her.

“You’re responsible for feeding and mucking, all of them! When you’re not busy with them, you will be working your ass off on deck. Is that clear?”

She swallows, and nods, unable to believe that she might get out of this alive, let alone unharmed.

“Yes, Sir, Ma’am, Captain... Ma’am...” She blushes at the babbling spilling out of her mouth and the Captain barks a laugh, joined by her crew.

“That’s ‘Captain’ to you. Now get your sorry ass out of my sight, there’s work to do.” She looks at the rest of them. “All of you! And get those maps in my cabin!”

She turns to Kit once more, giving her a disgusted once-over.

“And you make sure to clean up. You’ll be serving dinner and I prefer to be able to smell at least _some_ of it!”


	4. Chapter 4

The “great oaf” takes her under his wings. His heavy hand lands on her shoulder hard enough to have her wince; he turns her around and she gasps. It’s the first proper look she gets of him and she can’t quite believe her eyes. Before her stands a huge, broad-shouldered man - completely covered in fur. His nose looks snout-like and he’s sniffing the air before he grunts at her.

“Time to work.”

She can see his teeth when he speaks, sharp, pointy teeth. A monster! She freezes; he should be in a cage! She has cared for enough monsters to realize how dangerous they can be. Has the Captain lost her mind? She can’t help it, she flinches, trying instinctively to duck out of his grip.

His hold is steady, and his fingers dig painfully into her shoulder, just short of crushing her shoulder blade. But his eyes... they seem to soften, if that’s even possible.

“Not gonna hurt you,” he grunts, somewhat more quietly. He sniffs again, then makes a jerky motion with his head, letting her shoulder go. He turns and walks away, apparently expecting her to follow.

Kit takes a deep breath. So the Captain is crazy and the ship is full of, hopefully, tamed monsters. She can work with that - she only has to stay alive until they reach port. And she is good with monsters, after all. Maybe she can just stay down with those in the cages - at least there everyone knows what belongs before and behind bars. Because she is more and more convinced that this big guy isn’t the only monster on the crew - and god, how wrong that sounds! Her eyes skip to where she can see other crew members returning to their work, search for those who had felt off to her before. If she isn’t imagining things, then at least one of them has an honest to god tail sticking out of his trousers and-

Another cuff to her head pulls her out of her stupor. It doesn’t hurt as much as before, but he’s the one who had cuffed her earlier, Kit’s sure. He urges her forward and she stumbles along, unable to resist his strength. Her eyes skitter around, wide and disbelieving. Where the hell has she ended up here?

 

~~~

 

Her plan works out alright. ‘Alright’ consists of being bitten in the finger by a still agitated rascal-ish monster, two scratches across her cheek when she has to take a quick step back from the yellow snakeheads and ends up pressed against the bat cat’s cage, and ends with the Big Guy hauling her back onto deck when she doesn’t react to his call around dinner time.

With a silent prayer that the monsters will settle down soon from being relocated, she follows as slowly as possible, chancing looks around the ship and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. There’s laughter, and orders being barked in loud, booming voices. Some men are working on a couple of nets, two are cleaning guns. A young boy is sweeping the deck. Some of them look at her when they pass them. No one says anything.

Only when the door to the captain’s cabin looms before them does Kit realise where they are headed - and why. She tries digging her heels in, very much not wanting to get the Captain’s attention ever again, but the Big Guy forces her forward with a tight grip on her neck, opening the door and pushing her inside before she can react.

She hears a gruff “Here he is!” Then the door shuts behind her.

She half expects to be greeted by darkness and flickering candles, white skulls and gold coins or whatever else pirates fill their ships with. In reality, though, red light from the slowly setting sun fills the room, the rays falling through a large tiled glass window filling the aft side of the cabin.

The Captain stands bent over a table full of maps, some still in a crest Kit is quite sure she’s seen on the Victoria once. A pirate captain studying her bounty - the look is still on her face when she turns to look at Kit. The moment her eyes fall on her, though, they narrow, any trace of satisfaction and curiosity gone.

“What part about ‘clean up’ was too difficult for you?”

Kit feels herself blanch. So much for not raising the Captain’s attention. She straightens and crosses her arms over her dirt stained blouse. She’s feeling defensive, but not quite enough to meet the Captain’s eyes. Feeling them on her is bad enough.

“Take your clothes off.”

Her head jerks, eyes widening in shock.

“Now.”

“But-”

A backhanded slap sends her howling to the floor, her hands pressed to her cheek. Taking the blow and falling is instinct by now, the quickest way to get out of reach. This one really burns, though, tears spring to her eyes and blood from the reopened scratches is smeared across her hands as she shakily lifts herself up from the floor. This is no fight or flight situation; there’s nowhere to flee, and no chance in hell to win a fight. She swallows. The Captain watches her stone-faced, arms crossed, eyes cold.

“Either you take them off or I’ll cut them off. If I do, there won’t be much left to wear.”

Blinking against the tears and cursing herself silently for being unable to control the trembling of her hands, Kit begins to undress; slowly, piece by piece, she peels her dirty clothes off her body, praying for a wonder to happen.

It doesn’t.

The Captain studies the bandages around her chest.

“I thought so. I guess you _are_ a monster, after all.”

Kit’s incomprehension must have been showing, for the Captain chuckles.

“A woman who doesn’t know her place, kid. For some men that’s worse than having a tail on the wrong end.”

“A woman like you?” Kit bites her lip and ducks her head. She prepares herself for another slap but the Captain just looks at her, her expression thoughtful. She shrugs.

“If you will. They taught me thoroughly where my place is supposed to be - I just didn’t like it.”

She picks up a goblet from the table behind her and takes a sip, studying Kit over its rim. Kit stands in her bloomers and bandaged chest - and stares. For a moment, she actually forgets about her own situation as she wonders what the other woman’s story might be. The Captain is a beautiful woman and she’s completely unapologetic about it. There’s no attempt to hide anything, no attempt to appear more masculine. On the contrary, her trousers hug her hips in the most alluring way and the fiery red corset draws attention to the fact that the blouse obviously caresses the curves of full, perfect breasts. Her long dark locks frame a strong face and her eyes leave no doubt about her confidence and authority. She definitely has no trouble commanding a ship and crew, whatever her gender; and most certainly she has no calms whatsoever applying a strict hand.

That last thought reminds Kit of her still burning cheek and it pulls her out of her thoughts just in time to see the Captain put the goblet back down. She’s completely unprepared for her next order, though, and isn’t quick enough to catch the bundle of clothes thrown in her direction.

“Put those on and go get yourself some water to clean up. Dunk your clothes as well and make sure to scrub them and get that filth out. They should be dry by tomorrow.”

Kit gapes, shocked, only one thought in her mind.

“I can’t go out like this!”

She knows she should have kept her mouth shut the moment she hears the first word, but it’s too late; she feels the Captain’s dagger under her chin almost before she’s finished her sentence. It’s sharp; it pierces her skin when her head can’t go back further. She wouldn’t be surprised if red droplets were running down the blade. She shivers. This woman is crazy; and yet she can’t help but notice the strange fluttering in her stomach at the way those soft red lips hover so close, almost touch her own. She can feel the warm breath on her lips, those blue eyes bore into her...

“You ‘can’ do whatever I say,” the Captain hisses, her voice low and slightly rough. “And you will, if you know what’s good for you. My ship, my rules. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain,” Kit whispers, unable to nod, unable to move.

“Good. Go now. This may be a pirate ship, but I do not suffer fools nor filth.”

 

~~~

 

She freezes the moment she sets foot on deck. Kit is smaller than the Captain; her trousers and blouse look ridiculous on her. The trousers are in constant danger of dropping down - and worst of all, the blouse doesn’t even begin to cover her bandaged chest. She is wearing more clothes than some of the men pausing in their work all around her, but she feels more naked than ever before, with her own clothes pressed against her stomach as she fights to keep the trousers up. Her breath hitches, her chest tightens, and she’s unable to move at all under all those curious gazes. She feels panic rise inside her, unable to go back inside and just as unable to go forward- A cuff to her head puts a sudden end to it. Turning wide-eyed, she comes face to chest with Big Guy.

“Wash,” he grunts, without even a hint of surprise. He doesn’t seem to notice her apparel, her secret revealed. Or has he known all along?

She looks up at him, her clothes bunched protectively in front of her. He meets her eyes calmly, then places a heavy hand on the base of her neck.

“She wants them to know.”

His voice is a low rumble; his version of a whisper, she assumes. Does he mean the Captain wants them to know Kit’s secret, or to know that _she_ knows?

She wants to ask, but he pushes her forward before she can even open her mouth, and suddenly she’s stumbling down the deck, right in the middle of the crew. They’re silent, watching her; Kit takes a deep breath and straightens. If she has to do this, she’ll do it right. No more hiding. Only Kit; strong Kit.

She crosses the deck to where the bucket and rope wait. When she throws the bucket over the railing to start her task, she can hear the conversations pick up again one by one. It’s a relief, though she can still feel their eyes on her as she scrubs her clothes and finally dumps one last bucket of cold water over her own head. Then all she can think about is the cold, her wet garments, her clattering teeth and trembling body. Just as she’s hoped.

 

~~~

 

When Kit returns, the Captain is petting a large blue bird’s feathers, talking quietly to it. It’s a beautiful creature, its feathers glittering like blue jewels in the fading light, the sun’s red adding the illusion of fire to them. Its eyes are black, as are its vicious talons, but with the way it presses into the Captain’s touch and makes low cooing noises deep in its throat it doesn’t seem to be dangerous at all. That is until the Captain reaches for her dagger and, in one swift move, cuts across the tip of her ring finger. Kit gasps as she presents the bleeding digit to the bird and watches in horror as the monster latches onto the bloody offering, eagerly licking up the blood.

The Captain watches the bird with a smile, ignoring Kit. Finally she pulls her hand back, puts her dagger back into its place at her hip, and pulls a strip of cotton from a drawer.

“Good bird, Afina. Now be patient and wait on the perch until I’ve got the reply.”

This has obviously happened before. Kit shivers as she watches the bird fly over to a perch by the windows and the Captain wrap the cloth around her finger; a tiny bit of red sips through, but otherwise it seems to have stopped bleeding. Unsure whether to be glad that the scene is over or anxious as the Captain turns her attention to her, Kit shuffles awkwardly in her wet and too large clothes.

“I expect you managed to follow my order this time?” the Captain asks, studying Kit’s shivering form.

“Y-Yes, Captain,” she manages to say through clattering teeth. Even though it’s summer, the nights are still cool and with the sun setting fast and the wind outside the cold water seems to have seeped into her very bones; her wet clothes aren’t helping, either.

“Good.” The Captain points at a pile of clothes on a stool. “There are trousers and a blouse for you from one of the cabin boys, as well as another pair of bloomers. Those should fit, more or less. You’ll catch your death in those dripping things. And take those bandages off. There’ll be no hiding on my ship.”

She holds her hand out, a silent order that Kit doesn’t dare refuse. Shivering and red-faced, she undresses, then begins to unwrap her chest, keeping her eyes lowered to the ground the whole time. When normally she enjoys the short moments of being able to breathe freely, she now can’t help the fear constricting her chest as she bares herself to another person’s eyes for the first time since...

She tries to calm her racing heart as she hands the strips of cloth to the Captain and crosses her arms before her chest as she stands naked under her intense gaze.

“Don’t hide yourself, pet,” the Captain says, a mix of disapproval and compassion in her voice.

Kit looks up, hesitating, but when she sees the other woman’s eyes harden almost imperceptibly she bites her lip and drops her hands. Balled into fists, she presses them against her hips to keep herself from moving them up again. She has endured worse; this is nothing.

“Quite lovely,” the Captain says after a long moment of studying Kit. “Now tell me, what’s your name?”

“Kit,” Kit says, wishing she was allowed to dress already.

She sees the Captain look down at her breasts and smile.

“Your real name.”

Kate bristles.

She’s been bared by this woman, stripped of her secrets, standing totally naked. Her words feel like daggers cutting away the last shred of safety. But she _is_ naked, she _is_ vulnerable. She is helpless. And her cheek is still burning, probably a bright red by now.

“Kate.”

She bares herself, gives up everything; she almost feels like protesting when the Captain simply nods.

“Get dressed, Kate.”

The need to get dressed overrides any other emotion; she barely waits for the end of the sentence before she’s hurrying to where the clothes await her, dressing as if her life depended on it.

Her sanity just might.

She turns back to the Captain when she’s fully dressed to find her studying a small scroll.

“Go find Hector. Tell him we have a situation, then come back here. He’ll gather the rest.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Kate is eager to get out of the cabin. Somehow it seems easier to endure all those looks than the Captain’s intense gaze. She has no illusions, though, that once this meeting is over those eyes will be on her again. She can tell the Captain isn’t done with her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the final chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it! :) Thank you to all who gave kudos and feedback, it's very much appreciated! And now enjoy the smutty times! ;)

When the heated discussion begins to die down, the Captain sits down to pen a quick note with instructions. Her men take it as the dismissal it is, gathering at the door, back to loud jokes and jibes. They leave the cabin one by one and Kate slips inconspicuously in line behind them, heading straight for the door. She has seen the expression on the Captain’s face during the discussion. She’s been fierce with her men as they discuss the strategy they’re going to send to the other ship - but in-between, her eyes have strayed to the corner Kate’s been waiting in, ready to take orders, refill glasses or make herself otherwise useful. She’s been looking at her with a hungry look in her eyes and Kate is completely convinced she’ll find a very different way of making herself useful if she isn’t out of the cabin soon. The grins on the men’s faces tell her she’s right. So slipping out of the cabin it is.

She’s barely set a foot outside, though, when she’s gripped by the shoulder and pulled back into the cabin, the door banging shut.

“Not so fast!”

Her back meets the wall hard and the breath is knocked out of her enough so the Captain can catch her wrists without resistance. The next thing she knows, there are firm breasts pressing against her own and a knee between her thighs, pinning her against the wood like a butterfly in a showcase. She tugs at her wrists, trying to free herself of the grip holding them stretched up above her head, but the movement makes her realize exactly where that knee is placed, rubbing against her as she writhes. It’s such a weird sensation, having that strong, firm thigh between her legs, and she freezes, a foreign sensation coursing through her womb.

The Captain is looking down at her with dark blue eyes. That hungry expression is still there but she’s doing nothing but watch her. There’s a flicker of amusement as Kate stiffens.

“Do you enjoy that?” she asks, and Kate shakes her head.

“No! Let me go.”

Her voice is quieter than she intended. She knows she’s supposed to struggle, and fight. But the memory is paralyzing her, immobilizing her will to protest. The Captain pulls back until only her hand around Kate’s wrists and her knee between her legs remain.

“You belong to me now, pet. I will most certainly not let you go.”

There’s certainty in the Captain’s voice. No question about what is going to happen. Again. Kate whimpers.

“No, please! Don’t do that...”

She turns her head and closes her eyes to avoid facing the truth; the truth of what she cannot avoid, cannot fight. Almost instantly, fingers grip her chin and force her head back around, back to facing her tormentors.

“Look at me, girl,” the Captain commands, then again, louder, when Kate keeps them shut tightly. “Look at me!”

Kate forces her eyes open, fearing the consequences if she doesn’t. The Captain is looking at her, right at her, through her. Kate tries to close her eyes again, tries to flee that knowing expression, but those intense eyes won’t let her go, won’t let her escape.

“I am _not_ them, do you hear? I do _not_ enjoy making you suffer, I do _not_ want to break you!”

Something inside Kate melts under her gaze and she finds herself begin to struggle again, straining against the Captain’s hold.

“Sure looks like you are!”

This time, her response is an angry hiss that causes a tiny voice to whimper in fear in the back of her mind. She’s so going to get it for this.

But the Captain smiles, _smiles_!

Kate freezes again at the unexpected reaction, feeling her cheeks growing hot at the slow pulse she now notices growing between her legs.

“That’s the wildcat I was expecting to see,” the Captain says, the hunger returning to her eyes. “I do enjoy seeing you this fierce. It makes me wonder what you’ll be like in bed, what you’ll look like when you come.”

The husky note to her voice is sending shivers through Kate’s body, right down, it seems, to join the hot pulse beating slowly between her legs, causing it to grow even warmer, even harder to ignore.

“I don’t come,” she snaps, trying to distract herself from the way the Captain’s hand is caressing her neck, or the way her hips seem to want to move against her knee and thigh all on their own.

It only seems to feed the Captain’s amusement; her lips turn into a smirk that should have looked nasty in Kate’s experience but somehow only seems to make her look more beautiful. Her head is spinning, unable to process how this can be so familiar and frightening yet so different and exhilarating at the same time.

“That may have been true in the past, pet. But I assure you, it will most certainly be different from now on.”

Bollocks. She glares at the infuriating woman holding her captive.

“Take what you want then. I know I can’t stop you.”

Though come to think of it, she doesn’t really know what it is the Captain wants. But with all the monsters on this ship, who knows? Maybe she is man and woman at the same time? Or a vampire… Kate shivers, fighting the urge to struggle anew. She can’t get free, she’s realized that. And any movement only makes her body tense more, makes her stomach churn with sensations she cannot identify. Maybe that’s the allure of a vampire?

The Captain chuckles, then grips the collar of Kate’s blouse and yanks hard enough to tear the cloth and bare her chest. It hurts as the collar digs into her neck, but then there are lips on her throat, her shoulder, her collar bone. Hot, wet, soft. They’re kissing and sucking, there’s the touch of a wet tongue rising goose bumps on her skin, and sharp teeth nipping at her cleavage that have her whimper and writhe anew. The Captain’s calloused hand leaves hot sensations behind on her skin as the fingers trail across the planes of her stomach and up her ribcage in a burning touch.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?” the Captain murmurs next to her ear. “I’ll enjoy teaching you, giving you pleasure - watching you fall apart.” She chuckles again and it vibrates through Kate’s cheek. “And afterwards you may tell me what you _want_ to give me. And I’ll decide if you may.”

She bites her earlobe, a tingling, a threat of danger that make Kate feel like going crazy with... with something; she moans, and the Captain covers her lips with her own before the sound is gone completely, catching the last shreds of it with her tongue as she kisses Kate, strong and fierce and demanding, hot and wet and taking her breath away until she’s reduced to a mindless heap of need underneath her talented ministrations. Need; Kate needs, desperately, without knowing what. She only knows her body isn’t her own anymore, is a hot mess of sensation and want and need and is writhing mindlessly under the Captain’s hand and mouth, fingers and teeth and lips and tongue driving her crazy, driving her to hump her thigh in a frantic attempt to catch that sensations, to keep it, to get further, further to something. She whimpers, and moans, and it seems an eternity passes as the Captain teases her, torments her. Her eyes are almost black now, burning into Kate, telling her she knows exactly what Kate needs even though Kate doesn’t know herself, and apparently she’s not going to give it to her, is going to torment and torture and - and then something hot and slender slips between her legs, gets pressed against her as she continues rocking her hips, and she moans at the touch that feels like fire against her. It’s almost painful but oh so good and...

Kate screams, falls apart on the Captain’s hand, writhing and moaning as her body seems to explode, then pulses, unrelenting, on and on and on.

“Just like that,” the Captain murmurs, her voice husky but gentle as she brings Kate down slowly, releases her from her hold and pulls her against her in a tight embrace. Her face is buried in Kate’s hair, and Kate clings to her, the cloth of her blouse almost rough against her sensitive skin, almost too much. But she needs to be held, needs to be close to the other woman, to cling to something strong until her body stops shaking, until those tremors pass, until the aftershocks of whatever made her world explode right now stop making her whimper quietly on every other breath.

Strong arms pick her up; Kate does not protest as she’s carried toward the bed in the far corner of the room and deposited on the white sheets. She doesn’t protest when the Captain begins to undress her, takes off her trousers and torn blouse, even her bloomers. She most certainly doesn’t protest when the other woman joins her under the sheets, her body hot but oh so comforting against Kate’s. She doesn’t know what has happened, she doesn’t know what it means, but she does know that she cannot bring herself to fear the monstrous Captain. She might be dangerous, and she might be crazy, but for some reason, Kate feels more at home in her arms than she has ever felt anywhere else.

 

**~~The End~~**


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